


sutter week!

by hogarth14



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Food as a Metaphor for Love, M/M, Sutter Week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27481120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hogarth14/pseuds/hogarth14
Summary: These are my entries for Sutter week 2020!
Relationships: Charlie Cutter/Samuel Drake
Kudos: 6





	1. day one: food

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! Welcome to Sutter Week!!

Sam Drake never really learned how to cook despite living on his own since the age of 17. He was lucky enough to have lived with roommates who'd give him leftovers from work then clients who would buy him dinner. Otherwise, he'd eat a sandwich and call it a day.

He sat on the sofa in Charlie’s apartment watching the Food Network, wondering why in the hell anyone would spend too much time cooking when they'd just eat it up. And what the hell was  _ beef bourguignon  _ anyway? 

“What's that?” Sam asked as Charlie walked in holding a plastic container.

“Oh, it's  _ kunafeh _ . My mum made it,” Charlie grinned, holding it up.

“ _ Kuna _ -what?” Sam narrowed his eyes in thought.

“ _ Kunafeh _ , you uncultured American,” Charlie placed it on the table and Sam sauntered over in curiosity. “It's a dessert.”

“Well, don't mind if I do!” Sam reached over, only for Charlie to slap his hand away.

“Dessert, Samuel.”

“Shit, I'm hungry,  _ Charles _ .”

Charlie laughed and gave Sam a pat on the back before leading him to the kitchen and placed a bowl in front of him. 

“We're going to make kibbeh for lunch first.”

“Make?” Sam made a face.

“Come on,” Charlie rolled up his sleeves and put an apron on. “Haven’t you ever made a meal in your life?”

“Sure, just nothing that took more than ten minutes.”

Charlie sighed. “Mate, you're hopeless. It's more rewarding when you make your own food.”

Sam chuckled. He wouldn't admit it, but he enjoyed Charlie’s enthusiasm. 

“Well, alright, what do I do?” He asked as Charlie tossed him another apron.

Moments later, found his hands in a bowl of raw meat, burgul, and spices under Charlie’s approving smirk. 

“Hope I don't fuck this up,” Sam said.

“Just make it into little balls.”

He carefully made little balls then watched as Charlie expertly shaped them. It wasn't the first time he's tried Charlie’s homemade kibbeh, but he's never seen him in action, and Sam was amazed.

The smell that filled the apartment was divine as Charlie helped Sam fry the meat. 

“Gently, now, Sam,” Charlie said in a low voice, his hands on Sam’s as he dropped it into the hot oil.

“I'm so goddamn hungry,” Sam groaned, watching the kibbeh turn brown.

“How ‘bout you set the table and I'll finish cooking the food?” Charlie took the tongs.

“Sounds good.”

Sam placed two plates on the table and some cutlery as Charlie placed the hot kibbeh on a napkin on a plate. He made garlic yoghurt in a small bowl and placed it next to the food.

“Dig in,” he placed his hands on his hips and grinned.

Sam took one and took a small bite, instantly humming in delight. “Oh, wow.”

“Good, huh?”

“No offence, Charlie, but I think this tastes so much better than all the kibbeh you've made before.”

“Alright, alright,” Charlie chuckled. 

They ate in comfortable silence. Sam felt a strange feeling of accomplishment as he glanced over at Charlie happily eating the food they made together. He figured he could get used to this. 

“And now,” Charlie had a huge grin on his face as he opened the little container. “For the main attraction.”

“I thought  _ I _ was the main attraction,” Sam wiggled his eyebrows.

“Hah, you're funny,” Charlie replied in a deadpan voice, trying to hide his smirk. “Anyways, prepare your taste buds for some cheesy goodness.”

The kunafeh smelled sweet and Sam looked at the creamy, cheesy goodness in curiosity.

“Here goes nothing,” he said before he put a forkful of it in his mouth. It was just as sweet as it smelled, but the cheese melted on his tongue was complemented by the crunchy, wiry wheat on top. He could swear he tasted a hint of pistachio too. If food was heaven, this definitely was it.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out, much to Charlie’s amusement. “Holy shit, Charlie! This is fucking amazing!”

“I told you, mate,” Charlie smiled and took a bite himself.

Happy and full, they sat on the sofa watching  _ Jeopardy! _ Sam glanced at Charlie’s hand, wondering if he'd be crossing the line if he touched it just a little. His fingers inched closer, close enough for their pinkies to barely touch.

“If you wanted to hold hands, you should've just asked,” Charlie chuckled.

“What?” 

“I can see you glancing down and your arm moving.”

Sam breathed a sigh of relief when Charlie took his hand.

“Thanks for helping me cook,” Charlie smiled.

“No problem,” Sam shrugged. “We should do it more often.”


	2. day two: hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas, and Sam is lonely.

“Merry Christmas!” Sam greeted the carolers before closing the door behind him, alone in his empty apartment. There was a single Christmas tree that stood just three feet tall in the corner that he decorated with fairy lights and a few ornaments and candy canes that Victor gave him. He didn’t have time to get a tree-topper.

After a lengthy video call with Nathan and his wife, Sam grabbed a beer and sat on the floor in front of the tree. It was cold, and he wished he didn’t have to deal with clients so he would have driven all the way to Florida to be with family. Mostly he wished he was with Charlie.

He hadn’t talked to Charlie Cutter in a while, and he wondered what he was up to. He imagined he’d be drinking hot cocoa with him and discussing whatever came to mind if they were together at that moment. For now, it was just him and his own, lonely thoughts.

“Ah, shit,” Sam cursed as one ornament fell and shattered on the floor. As he picked up the pieces, he pricked his finger and he cursed again as blood oozed out.  _ Ever so clumsy _ , he thought.

The tiles in the bathroom were cold under his bare feet as he cleaned out the wound. He supposed he’ll live, but it upset him to know that he injured himself on Christmas Eve.

His phone started ringing in the next room, and he grabbed the closest bandaid. To his relief, it was Charlie.

“Hey,” he had his phone pinned between his ear and his shoulder.

“Sorry, I ran out of minutes,” Charlie said on the other line.

“That’s alright,” Sam chuckled, noticing the little cute cats on the bandaid. He didn’t remember getting cute band aids, so he figured maybe it was little Cassie’s. “You in London?”

“Yeah. I tried getting a flight to the States, but they’re all booked until  _ after _ the New Years.”

“Hey, hey, you don’t have to go here,” Sam scratched his head.  _ Besides I’m still dealing with stupid clients. _

“I figured you were lonely, drinking beer on the floor.”

Sam glanced at the half empty beer bottle. 

“I’m not lonely,” he lied. “I called Nate.”

“If you say so.”

He heard some static and Charlie’s voice sounded almost robotic as he tried to decipher what he was saying. 

“Hey, Charlie? You’re breaking up on me.”

“Got… Tree… Presents… Chloe…” 

“Charlie?” Sam asked.

There was no reply, and then the unmistakable  _ beep _ as the line went dead. “Merry Christmas, Charlie,” Sam whispered as he set the phone down.


	3. day three: rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day three: rain!

If there was something Sam didn’t like about London, it was the rain. 

“Bummer,” he muttered as he stepped out of a bookstore and was immediately pelted with cold, wet droplets of rain. “Charlie, I think I forgot to bring an umbrella.”

“What?” Charlie frowned as he followed him out. “Shit, I forgot mine too.”

“Should we wait it out?” 

“Uh,” Charlie held out a hand. “It’s just drizzling, so we’ll be alright if we walk fast enough.”

“Alright,” Sam shrugged and followed Charlie, who had his jacket tightly wrapped around him.

It almost felt nostalgic, walking in the cold rain. This was how he spent a lot of nights as a teenager in Boston, walking home to the tiny room he’d rented after work and he was always drenched. He remembered watching old movies and seeing all those couples always kissing in the rain, and he wondered what the big deal was.

He wasn’t always intimate with Charlie. They didn’t even like public displays of affection, but just this once, Sam wanted to try.

“You alright, mate?” Charlie raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re spacing out.”

“Huh?” Sam blinked. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright. Just thinking.”

“We could stop by a coffee shop if the rain is bothering you.”

“No, not at all. We’re almost there, anyways.”

As they reached Charlie’s apartment building, Sam glanced around, hoping they were alone. Charlie was fussing with his keys, trying to find the right one when Sam took his hand, kissing him when he turned back.

“I’m sorry,” Sam shrunk back when Charlie gave him a questioning look. “I was wondering what the fuss was about kissing in the rain.”

“You’re an idiot,” Charlie chuckled and turned back to open the door.

“Takes one to know one.”

**Author's Note:**

> For reference:  
> In tunacafe's Sutter fic, she HC's Charlie as Lebanese, so I tried to incorporate him introducing Sam to Lebanese food. I've not had kibbeh or kunafeh in years, so a lot of my descriptions are from memory and Googling what other people have said.
> 
> Also please send me some kunafeh I really do miss it.


End file.
